


When I Look at the Stars

by sebstanromanianangel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Planet, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky is a Imperial Trooper, M/M, Military Kink, Mutual Pining, Protective Bucky Barnes, Space Husbands, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve is an astronaut, Tatooine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4861601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebstanromanianangel/pseuds/sebstanromanianangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers life was going just as he planned. He had his dream job, a wonderful partner he was content to spend the rest of his life with, and financial stability…</p><p>He had everything he ever wanted.</p><p>He never realized how quickly all that happiness could be stolen from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** March 15th, 2327 **

**Steve Rogers, Signed In**

_It’s sounds ridiculous to call space my home._

_Space is a terrifying, black vacuum filled with burning gas and rocks bigger than earth itself. We haven’t explored even the tip of the iceberg completely. No one can call space their home, it’s still so wild and vast._

_But it’s what feels right to me. Even as a kid I felt drawn to space. I begged my mom to take me to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum constantly, I dressed up like an astronaut for Halloween every year, and every picture I drew was of planets, aliens, and astronauts._

_I devoted my life to becoming an astronaut and got my wish after being accepting into NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama after I graduated with honors from Brooklyn Technical High School a year early._

_A few years of buckling down and training harder than I ever had in my life, I was a certified astronaut by the age of twenty-one._

_And just like that, I had my dream job._

_Just one year after that, I met a beautiful young woman named Sharon Carter. We dated for a while before I asked her to marry me and she said yes._

_My life was going just as I planned. I had my dream job, a wonderful partner I was content to spend the rest of my life with, financial stability…_

_I had everything I ever wanted._

_Though, I never realized how quickly all that happiness could be stolen from me..._

* * *

 

**July 24th, 2031**

“It’s just three years, honey! Three years and you can talk to me again. I promise it’s going to be okay,” Steve cooed as he sat on the edge of his and Sharon’s bed, softly dabbing at her streaming eyes with a tissue.

“Three years in cryogenic sleep, are you kidding me right now?” Sharon sobbed, snatching the tissue away from him and blew her nose, “And not only will you be asleep the entire way there, but you have to come back sometime! You won’t be able to return in sleep mode, you’ll have to fly that entire way! Three-years in space with nothing to do? You’ll go insane! Stir-crazy!”

“Sharon, listen to me. My training has built me up for an expedition like this, it’s what I’ve dreamed about for years! Deep space exploration? Just ten years ago, scientists would have said it wasn’t possible! Look at how things have changed...it’s safe, NASA is beyond ready to send an explorer out. I want...I _need_ to be a part of this!” Steve scrubbed a hand through his buzzed blonde hair as he tried to reason with her, but Sharon’s tears only grew heavier.

Steve sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of some way to calm her, but he knew this was devastating news.

“Steve...when are we going to get married...have children? Didn’t you think of any of this before you accepted? And why didn’t you come talk to me first...or at least sooner?” Sharon sniffled, wiping her eyes again before looking up at her fiance in question.

“I assumed you would tell me to go for it since it is all I--”

“All you ever wanted, I know. I am getting pretty fucking tired of your obsession with space and the fact that you don’t focus on what’s really important. Family is what's most important! But ever since your mother died, you've seemed to lost sight of that…” Sharon growled, crossing her arms and looked away from him.

“I’m sorry, okay? This is _so_ important to me, Sharon…” Steve heaved a sigh and shook his head, “There's no point in arguing over this. It’s already done.”

“I know…” Sharon said, leaning forward, touching his arm gently and murmured, “I think we need to be done too…”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to search her brown eyes, “What? Just because I didn’t consult with you first?”

Sharon shook her head firmly and bit her lip before saying, “It’s going to be at least six, if not more, years before you return. Do you know how old I’ll be then? Six years from now I’ll be thirty-two...and you’ll be thirty-three. What if it’s ten years before you come back? You’ll be thirty-seven! We’ll be too old to have children by then...and the way your social skills are going, you’ll probably will be a hermit by the time you return. I don’t want or need any of that. I don’t need to wait around for something that’s just going to crash and burn,” Sharon told Steve, acting like it was the most normal thing a person said to another.

Steve bristled at her words, turning an icy gaze on her. So, he wasn’t worth waiting for? Is that what she was implying?

“I have plans for life too, Steve. When I agreed to marry you, I thought we were in this together. I assumed you were a sensible man and wouldn’t take a mission as extensive as this. But you did it and I’ve lost faith in you,” Sharon told him, wiping her eyes again as she stared down at the blanket that was draped over her legs, “I’m sorry, but we’ve been growing apart for years. You’ve got tunnel vision on this aerospace job and it’s making you really hard to live with and love.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see you for what you really are until just now,” Steve rumbled, standing up to make his way out of their... _her_ bedroom.

“What do you mean? What am I really?” Sharon called after him, sounding suddenly angry.

“A heartless woman who only cares about herself,” Steve responded through his teeth as he opened the door, “I’ll get my things out tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Sam’s tonight.”

“Steve...I’m not kicking you out yet, you can take all the time--”

“I’m leaving now,” Steve snarled and shut the door behind him.

He stormed through their-- _her_ apartment and grabbed his keys and phone before throwing open the door, then slamming it shut behind him.

Steve made it to the base of the steps before everything that had just happened started to settle in brain. He felt icy cold despite the warm, summer night as he stumbled to his motorbike. He swung a leg over the seat and sat down, trying to put his keys in the ignition but accidentally dropped them on the ground. Steve heaved a sigh and leaned over to get them when a small, choking sound escaped his throat. His forehead was pressed against one of the motorbike handles and rested their for a moment, hot tears dripping from his eyes as he quickly realized that he had just lost a piece of his dream.

* * *

 

A week and a half later, Steve was staring at the cryogenic tube where he would spend his next three years. He ran his hand over the glass panel above where his face would be, gnawing on his lower lip. 

“Are you scared?” a voice came from behind him and he turned around to see Sam Wilson, his best friend, standing behind him with his arms crossed and a tender smile on his face.

Sam worked with him, not only as Control’s Flight Dynamic’s officer, but also trained with him to make sure they were both always in top notch shape. Though, Steve could do without the three in the morning surprise jogs that Sam would spring on him periodically.

When Sam asked if he was afraid, Steve knew his friend well enough to know he wasn’t being an ass, he genuinely was worried for him.

“A little…” Steve responded slowly, turning around to look at the tube again, “I’m not focusing on that though, I’m looking at this as an adventure. Besides, I’ll be getting the world’s best nap.”

“You are one weird dude,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head with a laugh, “I wouldn’t have accepted that mission in a million years.”

Steve shrugged sheepishly, looking over at Sam with a smile.

“I’m gonna miss you, man,” Sam murmured, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Steve sighed, looking down sadly, “You’re all the family I’ve got.”

Sam huffed, letting go of Steve’s arm, “Makes me want to go over to Sharon’s place and have a few words with that woman. I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“Ah,” Steve shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve, “Now that I look back on the discussion, it makes sense...it all does. She doesn’t want to wait and I can respect that. I shouldn’t expect her give up her life to sit on her hands while I'm gone on a mission that could be six to ten years long.”

“Yeah, I get that, it’s just a shame,” Sam nodded with a sigh.

Steve shook his head again, trying not to think about Sharon. It hurt to much to know he'd lost another family member, but this time it was by his own doing.

He suddenly clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and said jovially as he steered him toward the exit, “Come on, buddy, let’s go get some good, real food. Could be the last time for a long time that I’ll be eating anything not freeze-dried.”

Sam chuckled, giving Steve a friendly pat on the stomach as he was hooked under the bigger man’s arm, “Alright, but just because you’re leaving, don’t expect me to pick up the check.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

* * *

 

First thing the next morning, before the sun had even peaked over the Houston sky, Steve was laying inside the cryo tube inside the space shuttle, staring at the ceiling as multiple hands prepped him for the long journey ahead.

“You doing okay?” he heard Sam say from his left side and he looked up, nodding silently.

He felt another needle being inserted under the skin on his right arm and he hissed slightly and growled, “I’ll be happy once I’m asleep and no one is poking and prodding me.”

“Don’t be too hurried to sleep, Rogers,” Dr. Bruce Banner said from his other side as he put an electrode on Steve’s temple, “You can get sick of sleeping too.”

“I highly doubt I’ll be aware that I’m getting sick of sleeping, Dr. Banner,” Steve chuckled, then winced as Banner slipped another needle into his bicep and injected him with some kind of fluid.

“You about ready?” Banner asked him, stepping back and gave Sam a solemn look.

“You bet,” Steve nodded, making himself a bit more comfortable by shifting his weight and gave both men a winning smile.

“Just remember, if you wake up, that thing is gonna open right up. Don’t panic, you can steer this boat right back home. There are plenty of rations to help get you through years if necessary,” Sam reminded him worriedly.

“Look, it’s gonna be fine. You need to relax, buddy,” Steve chuckled, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Sam gave him a long, odd look, like he wanted to say something else to Steve. He shook his head and sighed, “Okay...you better make sure it’s soon.”

“I’ll try my best,” Steve laughed as Sam reached into the tube and squeezed his arm softly before stepping back.

“All right, Steve, relax and I’m going to close the hatch. You’ve trained for periods of time in this, so you know that it’s going to be a little chilly and then you’re going to drift right off.”

“No need to worry, I’ve got it covered, Doctor,” Steve nodded and was about to lay back when he noticed Flight Director Nick Fury standing behind Banner, watching.

“Sir,” Steve gave him a respectful nod.

Fury stepped forward and looked at Steve for a moment before he grunted, “This is a big moment in history. Find some impressive shit up there for us, Rogers. Make NASA proud.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve responded with another dip of his head.

“Godspeed, Rogers,” Banner said softly as he pressed a button on the panel next to the pod and Steve heard a whirring noise as the hatch of the pod started to lift over him. He took his last breath of free air to tide him over until three years in the future, then went still as the hatch air locked shut.

There was a moment’s pause and then a sharp hissing reverberated in the pod, a hazy mist blowing out of the piping and surrounding him. He could feel the ice starting to form, beginning at his toes and working all the way up to his chest. He started to shiver violently as he let out a gasp, his body stiffening up. His eyes closed, a film of ice covering his face as his blood started to pump slower in his veins. Steve’s mind started to race as his natural instinct to panic kicked in. His brain told him he wanted out, he needed to get warm, he needed to move or he was going to die! But Steve ignored the warnings, his coherent thoughts becoming sluggish as he let the darkness of sleep slowly overtake him.

The last remembered thought in his mind was solely musing on what wonders he would soon see at the far reaches of the galaxy.  

 

* * *

 

**March 15th, 2327**

_It’s an odd thing, dreaming in suspended animation. I think I got flashes of what was actually going on around me before I awoke. I wasn’t completely oblivious. I mean, I heard high-pitched warning sirens going off. I smelled smoke. I wasn’t sure what woke me up, exactly. Whatever it was happened in the nick of time._

_I can’t quite remember what happened after I got up, but it’s slowly coming back to me as more time passes. All I know right now is that I was in space and now the shuttle and I are stranded in a desert in the middle of nowhere. It’s hot and the damn timer on the log is broken. There is no fucking way that it’s year 2327. It must have broken in the crash._

_Anyway, I am going to attempt sleep now, though...I don’t want to sound like a five-year-old, but there are some goddamn animal outside that’s screaming like a banshee every few minutes and it’s setting me on edge._

_Here’s to not being killed by a wild animal in my sleep._

**Steve Rogers, Signed Out**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sand is a bitch.

A sharp gasp escaped Steve as he jolted upwards abruptly from his sleep. He blinked in confusion as he took a moment, not positive where he was. His body was slumped in the leather pilot’s chair in front of the control panels. He stared at the panel, watching the dim lights flicker on the remaining power.

Steve slowly began remembered where he was… in the middle of nowhere. He took a deep breath and sat up, leaning his elbows on the armrests, allowing his head to droop in fatigue. He didn’t understand how he could be tired after being in cryo. In all his training, he’d never experienced such exhaustion when he emerged from The Sleep. Maybe the time on the log was right, he did sleep for three-hundred years, and perhaps he was tired just because he hadn’t moved in so long.

But that didn’t make any sense, did it? Steve knew his mind wasn’t functioning correctly. Everything seemed so out of place, mismatched, like his thoughts weren’t connecting. He blamed it on the drugs that were pumped into him before he was frozen.

Steve felt his stomach growl and he finally forced his body out of the chair and stumbled over to his food supply cabinet. He opened the airlock and pulled out a baggie of dried fruit, tearing open the seal. He plunged his fingers in and started to greedily eat the fruit, his stomach silencing in satisfaction.

The thought of finding something to drink was just drifting into his mind when the screech he’d heard the night before echoed off the metal walls of the shuttle.

He dropped the baggie as he spun around, going still while he listened past the blood pounding in his ears. When he didn’t hear another noise following the first screech, he quietly walked to open a panel on the wall, revealing his meager arsenal of weapons. The weapons were were mostly intended for hunting, not self defense, but they would have to do.

He pulled down the most dangerous weapon on the rack, which happened to be a hunting knife and he moved to the half broken exit hatch. Steve reached out to push it, wincing as it loudly creaked on its damaged hinges.

For the first time, Steve, got a good look outside. When the shuttle first crashed, it had been pitch black outside, but he could tell from the viewing port that he was in a desert. Now, the sun - make that suns - were rising over the dunes and he could see how vast the desert truly was.

Steve looked around for the source of the noise. It seemed so close before, yet he saw nothing.

He grunted and tucked the knife into his belt to clamber on top of the shuttle to get a look around. He rotated slowly so he could get a panoramic view of the desert. Everywhere he turned, he saw endless sand dunes. Where the hell was he? Did the shuttle malfunction and put him down in the middle of the Sahara? He was breathing oxygen, so had to be on Earth… didn’t he?

“Where are you, ya banshee?” Steve finally grumbled under his breath as he looked around for whatever animal was making that horrible noise.

He remembered that he had binoculars in the shuttle and he slid off the roof and landed in the sand. As soon as his feet touched down, he heard the sound again and twisted around, pulling out his knife in fear. Steve frowned, seeing only sand behind him. Maybe he was hallucinating…?

“I’m going fucking crazy with this heat…” Steve huffed and turned back around.

A gasp tore out of him when he saw a tan blur in front of him. He cried out in terror as the creature, appearing to be humanoid, raised its arms in the air and gave some horrible warcry; the source of the howling he’d been hearing since the night before. The creature hit him in the chest with the staff, the force of the hit throwing him backwards. He fell into the sand and rolled over quickly out of the way, as the end of the the creature’s staff hit right where his head would have been.

The creature screeched at him again and Steve scrambled to his feet. He tried to run the opposite way, but was clocked in the head by another creature identical to the first. Steve fell to his knees as he blinked at a couple of shaggy elephant-like animals off in the distance where more of these creatures were. How the fuck had he not noticed them?

Steve felt blood trickling down from his hairline and he was about to force himself to get up again when he felt a blunt blow against his back.  He cried out as the following blows became frenzied and brutal. The creatures started to surround him, howling and screeching their victory as they brought him down into a fetal position.

Steve couldn’t do a thing. Every strike to his body made him weaker than he already was. He found himself staring at the sand that his cheek was pressed into where blood was leaving tiny rivulets in the grains of sand.

He blinked slowly, so confused. He didn’t know where the hell he was, or what was happening. He didn’t even know if this was **real**. His eyes fluttered shut as the creature hit him hard in the back of the head, causing stars to dance in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a small, explosion that made all the creatures stop. Steve’s eyes opened as one of the creatures squealed and fell the ground next to him. Steve got a good look at the thing’s face, much to his horror. Its head was wrapped like a mummy; its mouth a dark, open chasm. Horns sprouted off the top of the head, and the eyes looked to be some sort of piping. It **had** to be a mask of some sort…

Steve stared blankly at the dead creature as he heard more sharp explosions. The other creatures fell one by one around him.

Steve couldn’t even muster the strength to roll onto his back to see who had killed the creatures and saved him. Everything went silent, except for the wind blowing over the desert. Steve listened carefully when he finally heard footsteps coming up next to him and a booted toe nudged his shoulder.

Steve huffed and shakily tried to push himself upward, barely managing to get his palms on the ground. His arms shook before he felt a hand wrap around one of his biceps, pulling him up to his knees.

Steve’s head lolled back, letting him see a man in odd white and black armor with a mask covering his face. He appeared tall, especially from the angle Steve was at. His outfit and the weapons at his utility belt made him look even more sinister.

Steve stared up at the lifeless black lenses in the mask. He didn’t say anything, so Steve ventured, asking the least relevant question possible.

“W-why did you save me?”

The armored man canted his head slightly at the query. He lifted Steve up by the scruff of his NASA uniform and dragged him to what looked to be a hovercraft of some kind.

“What...the hell are you doing?” Steve gasped as his collar pulled against his neck tightly.

The man lifted him with one arm and tossed him into the seat next to the pilot’s chair. Steve hit the chair hard and he looked up in confusion.

The man got into his seat, activated the hovercraft and started forward. Steve, if he weren’t so sore from being beaten by those creatures, he would have been more proactive in trying to figure out how this vehicle was running while floating off the ground. Instead he slowly turned his sore head toward the man and asked over the whistling wind from the convertible-style windshield, “What were those things?”

The man didn’t answer for a moment until there was a static sound from his helmet and a muffled voice answered, “Sand People.”

Cryptic, but at least he was answering Steve now.

“What are sand people? Locals?” Steve inquired, reaching up to wipe away some blood on his forehead.

“Inhabitants, just one of the many,” the man responded and stopped the vehicle next to a small outpost that looked to be made of sand as well.

Steve watched as the man got out of the vehicle, came around to his side and grasped his arms to pull him out not so kindly. He dragged him into the small building and threw Steve inside.

Steve tumbled to the ground with a whimper as the man shut the door behind him.

He rolled on his back as the man lifted his helmet off his head, making Steve’s eyebrows raise in shock. He half expected the man to have a scaled face or alien eyes after seeing the beasts that attacked him at the shuttle. But no, this man was very much human. He had short, dark hair and grey-blue eyes that were the color of a brewing storm. His lips were full, cheekbones high, and his jawline was strong.

“What the hell were you doin’ out there at dawn?” the man growled, his voice low with an indistinct accent. Steve gaped at him, not sure of how to respond.

“Um...I was checking my surroundings, trying to figure out where I am?”

“Where are ya from?” The man asked, taking a menacing step forward, making Steve scoot back.

“Originally? From Brooklyn. I live in Houston now,” Steve swallowed. The man’s eyes narrowed a bit. He took a chunky pistol from his belt and aimed it at Steve.

“Don’t lie to me, where are you from?”

“I’m not lying!” Steve exclaimed.

“What planet, what region?”

Steve’s mouth opened, then closed again without an answer. He didn’t know how that was relevant.

“Earth?” Steve answered slowly, brows furrowed. The man looked utterly confused as he stared back at Steve.

“Where is that?”

“What do you mean, where is that?”

“What region?” the man demanded to know, taking a step forward and pressed the barrel of the gun to Steve’s head. Steve panted, looking at the man, cluelessly as he held up his hands in submission.

“You’re on Tatooine in the Outer Rim Territories,” the man growled at him, “Why are you here?”

“Tatooine? What the fuck?” Steve scoffed, arching an eyebrow as he thought maybe this man was messing with him. The man’s eyes studied him for a long moment before he pulled back and murmured.

“You really have no idea what I’m talkin’ about, do you?”

Steve huffed, looking at the man earnestly, “Look, I’m Steve Rogers, a NASA astronaut on a mission to go exploring in space. I was in suspended animation and my shuttle malfunctioned. Somehow, I ended up in this desert. I’m just looking for a way out and back home. Where is this place? Am I even on earth? Is that too crazy to think I might be somewhere else? Some other planet?”

“What is this earth you keep talkin’ about?” the man inquired, putting his pistol back on his utility belt.

“It’s my home…Earth...America...how have you never heard of it?” Steve asked, hands still up in defense.

“The galaxy is infinitely huge, Rogers,” the man sighed, stepping back to check out the porthole in the door, “You never realize how small you are until you’ve seen the stars. I thought a space traveler like yourself would understand that.”

Steve watched him and murmured, “What are you looking for? More of those creatures?”

“I’m more concerned with people a little less primitive,” the man hummed under his breath as he seemed satisfied that there were no dangers outdoors.

“Who?” Steve asked and swallowed.

“People who will want ya and your ship. That thing you were flyin’ around in was ancient and will earn a great deal of cold, hard credits. Scavengers are gonna be all over that...and they might come after you too if you get someone ambitious enough,” the man responded, turning to Steve with a smirk on his lips.

“But I have things on that ship that I need!” Steve exclaimed, struggling to stand up, “I got to go back and get the log tablet, sample kits--”

“There is no way you’ll survive going all the way back there after your tussle with the Raiders. You take ten steps out the door with blood all over you and no experience in the dunes, you’ll be a Krayt Dragon meal for sure,” the man scoffed, crossing his arm with an amused expression on his face.

“I’ll make it somehow,” Steve grunted and limped toward the door, but gasped when the man’s fingers wrapped around his bicep, stopping his movements.

“What do you need? Write me a list,” the man murmured.

“What?” Steve looked at him in confusion.

“I know these dunes like the back of my hand, unfortunately. I’ll go get what you need, but your shuttle is as good as gone. If it’s still there, I’ll save what I can if you tell me what you want,” the man told him. Steve was unsure why this man had not only saved him from the ‘Sand People’, but was willing to risk his life to salvage some things from the wreckage. But he needed his things and the man was right, Steve was in no shape to go traipsing through the sand, especially when there were monsters like the Sand People running around. He didn’t want to know what a Krayt Dragon was…

“Um, I would like my tablet for record keeping, the hunting knife I had when I was attacked, sampling kits to take back to earth when I figure out a way to get home...I think that’s everything I would need overall,” Steve listed for the man. The man nodded and picked up his helmet before heading toward the door.

“Nothin’ will bother you in here if you stay put. You better stay here and not make me find your sorry ass for bid at the slave stock,” the man opened the door and added, “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Wait,” Steve called out to him before he could get outside and the man turned back to him curiously.

“Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean,” Steve asked him. The man shrugged. “I don’t know...I guess I don’t like seein’ a life form of any kind being beaten on by those Raiders, much less a good life form. And you seem like one of the good ones.”

The man tried to make another move out the door and Steve cleared his throat.“I gave you my name, it’s only fair I know yours.”

The man chuckled and lifted his helmet over his head. Before lowering it, he smirked at Steve and said.

“It is only fair. I’m Master Sergeant Bucky Barnes.” That being said, Barnes secured the helmet on his head and moved out the door, shutting it tightly behind him. Steve stared at the door, feeling like he’d been dropped in the middle of a dream with monsters and alien planets. This couldn’t be real. This had to be an effect of the suspended animation. He could only dare to hope that his current reality was merely a dream.

 

* * *

 

March 16, Two thous-SAND and I have no fucking clue on this nasty-ass sand planet:

_Since I’m away from my logbook, I am writing this on a piece of scrap paper I found in this sand igloo, which is harder than you think. One would think these people don’t even know what paper is. Also, I am sick of having sand in my mouth and eyes. Whoever decided living in the middle of the desert was a good idea is a fucking moron._

_One of those morons being Bucky Barnes. Excuse me... **Master Sergeant** Bucky Barnes. The knight in shining armor (literally) who saved my ass from the Sand People. Of course, I don’t trust him in the slightest. I’m fairly certain he left to get the sand authorities so they can haul my sandy ass to sand jail._

_So, update from my last entry: I’m not on earth. Barnes doesn’t even know **what** earth is, much less where it is. I don’t know how I’m on a different planet and breathing like it’s earth’s atmosphere (aside from the sand I’m inhaling.) Yeah, it’s shitty that I’m here and completely off course, out of range of NASA in the middle of nowhere, but it’s new. It’s an adventure. Adventure is what I wanted when I was sent on this mission. I got my wish. Yay._

_At this point, I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m going to do...I suppose I wait here for the authorities to come get me after Barnes summons them. I don’t have any other choice. I’m beat to shit, tired, uncoordinated in this sand, unarmed...everything is against me. I don’t have any other choice but to wait things out right now._

_But I swear, with God as my witness, I’ll get home._

_And I’ll do whatever it takes to get there._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter! I'd like to thank my new beta reader Aphrodisia and her willingness to deal with my not-so-perfect knowledge of Star Wars to help me make this fic awesome! More action and Stucky soon to come!


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